Project Green
by Swissed Toast
Summary: As far as I'm concerned, the only thing that matters is getting home in one piece. But no matter how hard I try, something just wants to keep me trapped inside this fabricated reality. Or at least, I'm pretty sure its fabricated, because things like this don't happen in real life. Self-Insert.


**A/N: SO. Uh, this is my first time really trying something like this. I actually haven't written in first person before..? I'm stepping out of my comfort zone a lot, because I usually stick to third person. But then again..it's difficult to do a Self Insert story in third person.**

**But, this is my Self Insert attempt. I know i'm not the greatest writer; English is not my first language so there are some mistakes that I might not have caught. I also do not have a beta reader, because I have no idea how to find them..**

**Also, this is gonna be kinda different from a normal Self Insert. I haven't really seen someone ever take this sort of approach, and it's a lot easier for me because it makes me use my imagination. It's going to be a bit slow at the beginning, though, so please bear with me!**

**But, yeah. Thanks for reading. I'm not the best at characterizing, so I'll try my best. Please bear with me, because I promise I'll get better as I keep going!**

**Tales of Symphonia © Namco**

* * *

_~Prologue~_

I thought I died.

That's the logical thing to believe after you've been hit by a speeding car, right? Especially a semi-truck that had been much larger than I- there's no way I could be anything _but_ dead.

Yet . . . here I am, staring up at the numerous faces of the paramedics who are gathered around me. There is an excruciating pain coming from both my head and my rib cage. There's an oxygen mask over my face, and through my hazy vision, I can see the bright, almost blinding lights of the E.R.

Maybe I'm not dead yet, but I probably will be soon. To be honest, I hadn't expected for my life to turn this way- SAT prep, PSAT, AP Chem- all the stresses that I had been thinking of less than an hour before seemed far away compared to this.

I had taken the road many times before; it was how I got home. For months beforehand, I had biked home that exact way and encountered absolutely no traffic.

The one time I forget to check, I'm hit. Not just hit- ran over, practically.

It's a terrible feeling to have your ribs crushed. It's so painful that the only thoughts I can think of as I'm rushed into a room that I can't identify are how much I wish I could just die.

I can barely breath; it feels like I'm drowning- drowning in the swimming pool that I've always dreaded going in during the summer. Except . . . this is so much more real. So much more terrifying, because there are no ledges or floaties for me to hold onto with this drowning. There's a liquid in my throat, but no matter how much I gag and cough, it refuses to leave. Copper, salt- the tastes blend themselves into one, choking me with ease.

My eyesight flickers, the edges spotting black as I hear the swinging doors behind us. I can barely hear a thing; its almost like I'm underwater. Everything is just . . . just incomprehensible to my ears, and a loud ringing settles itself inside my head, completely blocking out the little bit of sound I could hear.

_**Ring ring, one two three. Incoming, incoming. It pulls at your ears, stretching them out to an unnatural length. Painful its so painful that you let out a strangled cry but you can't fight it because you can't fight what isn't there-**_

Without sound or sight, a pit of terror settles itself in my gut. Everything is so distorted that I wonder if I'm really in the hospital anymore- I could still be on the street, for all I know. Or I could be dreaming- though, this would be an extremely vivid dream if it were to be. Maybe I'm drowning and I don't know it.

_**Don't fret, don't fret. There's nothing to fear. You're safe with me, my little dear. The tugging on the ears is gone, but instead it settles itself on your face. Pulling at your eyes, there's something in there that its looking for- looking for to twist and distort until its become something so broken that it's beautiful-**_

The thoughts run through my head, seemingly endless as the list goes on, and on-

_**The water rushes around the outstretched hand, pulling at the limbs as you struggle to the top. The water's inside you now, mixing with the broken toy that has become beautiful from turmoil. It's like an extra liquid, flowing through your body with your blood. Enjoy it, gorge in the fruitful addition that you've now got. It wants out- out, it needs to escape but it can't; there isn't a way out of fate because you can't run away from what you can't see-**_

The ground beneath me jerks suddenly, and I'm jolted back into reality as a rush of air hits my face. Cold hands press against different parts of my body, and I can feel the doctor lifting my eyelids. The pain in my chest is suddenly much more real than it had been seconds before.

There's a pressure on my arm, and within seconds, an ice cold . . . almost, tight, grip pulls at my heart. It's hard to explain, honestly; it came so quickly that I involuntarily jerk forward. The pain in my ribs gets worse - so much so that I can't help falling into the sweet bliss of unconsciousness that lingered just outside the area I could reach.

And with the unconsciousness, the excruciating pain dulls, before slipping away . . . leaving only a faint buzzing as proof of its existence.

_**Admission successful. Loading the database in three . . two . .**_

* * *

"_Little children shouldn't play with fate."_

_The deep voice echos in the empty room. I sit up in my bed, looking around for the source of the voice. The sun was just beginning to rise into the sky, and through the slightly parted curtains, it had began to light the room._

_The room was empty- of course it was. There couldn't be another person in here, because everyone was in their own room._

_It spoke again. _

"_Do you know what happens when you play with fate?"_

_I couldn't pinpoint which part of the room the voice was coming from; it seemed to come from every part._

_Shadows danced up the walls as I slipped from the thick blankets of my bed, as if they were trying to hide away from me. I divert my eyes to the wall, watching as the shadows begin to grow into a dark figure. One of a man- as far as I could tell, at least. Without my glasses, my vision is blurry, and I have to squint to make out the grin that comes upon the figure's face._

_A wave of uncertainty washes over me as it steps away from the wall. The shadows stretch as they're pulled away, beginning to materialize only feet in front of me, and I realize that something bad is about to happen._

_With a disfigured arm, the shadow man lifts its arm, resting the palm of its hand just above my eyes. A painful, stabbing headache forms almost immediately, and before I can even murmur a sound of pain, the shadows drip down from its hand, slipping into my eyes._

_The room goes black, and faintly, I hear the shadow man chuckle._

"_Have fun." With that, my knees give out. Yet, instead of hitting the hard, wood floor of my room, there is only a rush of air underneath me . . . just like if I was falling._

_**. . one. Initiation complete.**_

* * *

"_**Welcome to project Green."**_

The words echo through my head as my eyes snap open, gone from my head as soon as I register them. My body pulls itself instinctively into a sitting position, shoulders tensing as my eyes dart around the area for the voice. With the sudden awakening, my body has little time to adjust to the area around me, and a blur of colors assault me immediately, forcing my eyes shut as I groan. Out of habit, my body curls slightly, falling back into the soft grass underneath, and around me. The light burns- it burns my eyes.

My eyes..they aren't the only thing burning. My chest burns, a rippling pain shooting through every part of my body. It feels like I'm on fire from the inside- like fire is running through my veins. With each second, the pain worsens, and I curl into a tight ball, fighting back the urge to just scream.

I'm not a stranger to pain. Growing up with two brothers wasn't easy, even if one of them was younger. But this pain . . . it's different than anything I had ever experienced.

Not only internally does it burn, it burns my skin now too. Constantly jumping between a hot, fervent pain, and a cruel, stinging pain; the tears sting at my eyes, and I feel no shame as my body tenses, pulling closer in an attempt to escape the pain that's dancing its way through my body.

It's ripping me. Ripping my chest apart; it hurts so bad and there's something trying to escape but it won't come out it can't come out because . . because-

There's a loud ringing, and I suddenly feel nauseous. It takes all my self control to not throw up; instead, I roll from my side, to a kneeling position. My arms grip at my stomach, and I wheeze, trying desperately to fight back the violent surge of bile that was in my throat. I'm practically bent forward, and I feel tears slip out of my eyes.

Then, suddenly, the ringing stops. Within seconds of the ringing stopping, the pain too is gone. As if it never even existed. The ripping begins to die away, leaving only a dull, achy pain as proof of its existence. Shakily, I open my eyes just the slightest, swallowing back the bile in my throat.

It isn't as bright as it was before. Nonetheless, my eyes strain the slightest bit, struggling without the assistance of my glasses. I begin to straiten my posture, sitting fully on my knees now. My hands make their way away from my sides, and into the grass to feel for the smooth frame of my glasses.

But no matter how much I search, I find nothing. They aren't anywhere here.

Great. Now, I might as well be blind.

I stagger my way to my feet, brushing the dirt off my shorts. I squint, struggling to see the area around me as more than a blur of color. There's a small bit of brown in the distance, though its so badly blurred that I can't even guess at what it is.

Around me is green. I know for a fact that it's grass . . very tall grass. Most of it reaches as high as my ankle, which is strange.

. . I'm in some sort of field. It's not hard for me to guess, but as soon as I realize that I get a bit fearful. I can't remember where I was last- but I know for a fact that I wasn't in a field. It couldn't be any later than Five PM after all.

Maybe I was in one of the empty fields near my school. In my post-awaking daze, I don't question this. It can't be that unusual. I can just wander my way back anyways.

In the back of my head, there's a bit of worry. I push it away, though. Mother always told me that I was paranoid after all.

If I was in an empty field, it would be best for me to make my way back towards town. Taking another look around at the blurred colors, I have to swallow back my anxiety.

I hate not having my glasses.

With the brown blotch being the only thing I could identify, I decide that that would be the direction I headed towards. So, with my destination in mind, I began to walk.

The strange thing about this grass is that it doesn't feel as soft as the grass that you usually would find in the fields. But maybe I'm thinking too much about it . .

Out of habit, my hand slips into the pocket of my shorts, intending to grab my phone . . and feels nothing.

_What?_ My phone isn't there- it's impossible, I never leave my phone anywhere! I turn on my heel, walking back the few feet I had walked. I knelt down, looking through the tall grass for the smooth, black case of the electronic.

Sure, without my glasses I can't see anything . . my parents can replace those when I get home, though. But my phone? Without my phone, I can't even call for someone to pick me up! If no one can find me, then there's the possibility of being lost for a long while.

Shit, shit, shit. Not good at all.

Aggravated, I stand back up. It's not there at all. Like my glasses, my phone is just gone. That worry comes back, and this time I don't push it away.

I have a right to be worried, after all. I'm lost.

Lost, and alone in a place that I can't even navigate clearly. I tug the sleeves of my sweatshirt over my hands, hunching my shoulders as I fight back the urge to start crying. It's childish for me to cry, especially over something as silly as this.

I've been lost before. This is nothing different.

But no matter how much I tell myself this, I can't shake the feeling of unease away. Until I find another person, or a city, there's no way that I'll be able to be calm.

Until I find another person. When I find another person, they can lead me to a city where I can call my parents. All I have to do is find another person so I can go home.

With that in mind, I begin walking again, towards the blur of brown.

* * *

It's strange how quiet it is.

In the time that I've been walking, I haven't heard any sounds other than the occasional chirp of a bird. I could've sworn that I saw a squirrel run through the grass on multiple occasions as well.

But there's absolutely no sign of civilization. I haven't heard a plane, helicopter, train whistle, or car horn in the entire time I've been walking.

In a city as large as the one I live in, that's nearly impossible to find. In fact, it might just be impossible unless you go to an extremely secluded area in the country.

But that's easily a good thirty minutes away, by car. There's no way I could be that far out.

After walking through grass for about ten minutes, there had been a sort of dirt path. I had followed it, and was still walking on it after nearly two hours. My legs ache for a rest. But if I stop, then it'll get dark. I don't want to be out here during night.

My eyes burn from the strain. It's extremely frustrating to walk around without my glasses, and I question how people can do this with ease when their eyesight is worse than mine.

I haven't seen a house, city, or town (nor any signs of them existing) since I started walking. The anxiousness from earlier has grown over the past two hours, and is now practically engulfing me. My shoulders shake. I want to go home, I want to lay down in my bed and sleep-

The smell of smoke invades my nose, and I cough, hiding my nose in the crook of my sweatshirt. I hadn't expected the smoke at all.

Smoke . . Smoke meant people. People meant civilization- I might not be near a city, but there is someone nearby who will know where this is. They'll know where the nearest city is.

I look around, squinting again in an attempt to make out anything that could be a person. My eyes scan the area, before landing on a small ball of red a bit away. I can't see if anyone else is by the red – which i'm assuming to be a fire – but there isn't any harm in checking.

I shut my eyes for a moment, trying to relieve the burning sensation. The sooner I reach the fire, the sooner I can rest.

One foot in front of the other. One after the other. Baby steps, baby steps . . my legs are shaking, and my thighs burn from the amount of walking. I haven't walked this much at once in a long time, and I know that I'll be feeling the strain on my muscles when I wake up tomorrow.

As I get closer, I can see the blurry form of a person. Mostly I see purple, though I can see a splash of pink in what almost looks like a bow.

Before I get within thirty feet, I'm knocked back by something. A surprised yelp escapes my throat, and I grimace, feeling a slight weight on my chest.

A high pitched voice comes the thing on my chest. "Sheena! An intruder!"

It's so squeaky that I have to resist the urge to bring my hands up to cover my ears. Loud, high pitched voices have always been annoying to me.

A shadow comes over my figure, and from the ground, I look up at the person standing above me. The creature on my chest jumps away, scampering up the shoulder of the person.

It's a girl, with what looks like Japanese heritage. Her hair is a purple-black color, and the bangs hang over her dark eyes. She's dressed in a strange garb; a purple top, which exposes the white underbra, and black leggins underneath. There's a bow tied around her waist, the ends hanging near her ankles. She's staring down at me, examining every bit of me.

"Who are you?" They ask, their voice akin to suspicion. Her eyes are staring into my darker ones, and I flinch.

Her voice sounds familiar, though in my momentary panic I can't place where I've heard it from before.

"U-Uh," I stammer, my voice cracking. My head went blank. "I-I'm . . I'm kinda lost." I tell her. I don't dare trying to sit up; something tells me that if I do, nothing good will come from it.

She scans my face for a moment, before blinking, her hardened expression seeming to faulter in surprise.

"Are you from Mizuho?"

Mizuho . . the name sounds so familiar. I open my mouth to respond with a no, and to say I don't know where that is, but before I can do so my voice halts, coming out as a noiseless gasp.

Mizuho was from . . Tales of Symphonia, right? That didn't make sense . . Mizuho isn't real. It's just a made up village from a game.

I look at the creature on the girl's shoulder. It looks like a fox, with multiple large tails swishing behind it. What had it called her . . Sheena-?

My blood went cold. Sheena, Mizuho – No, it couldn't be possible.

I look over her clothes again, practically shaking now. It isn't possible, it can't happen – Tales of Symphonia is a game, not a real place. Things like this only happen in fanfiction.

Yet, no matter how much I repeated this to myself, I couldn't deny the realization that was coming over me.

It isn't a coincidence. Creatures like the little fox on her shoulder didn't exist outside of Symphonia.

I'm in Tales of Symphonia. I don't know how, I don't know when – but right now, I'm at the mercy of a ninja who could easily break my ribs if she wanted. The thought terrifies me, and the horror settles in my stomach as I realize that I could die right here.

The realization of this makes my face go pale, and my hands begin to shake. I'm nervous. Very nervous, to be honest.

"I- . ." My words refuse to form. I've never been good at making up lies on the spot. "I . . don't know." My voice cracks nervously. Sure Sheena had always been one of my favorite characters; but she was still a trained assassin.

If she thought I was a threat, she could easily kill me.

Maybe, feigning naivete would be best for now. At least until I figure out a safe way out of this mess.


End file.
